Wrongful Death

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Gloria exclaimed.

  Donna paused and closed her eyes, trying to recall her exact movements when she opened the door that morning. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘If Josh was in would it have been open and just the Yale lock on?’ Dewar persisted.

  ‘Yes . . . Probably, I think.’

  ‘Were there any spare sets of keys that you gave out?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you ever lend your keys to anyone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You said in your statement that you then went to the bedroom. Sorted out the washing and took it through to the kitchen.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you a neat and tidy person?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Dewar kept on firing her questions at Donna, trying to unsettle her. ‘House-proud, neat and tidy.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you didn’t notice the wardrobe door and safe were open?’

  Donna paused again to think.

  ‘Why on earth are you asking my daughter these questions?’ Gloria interjected.

  ‘I’m considering the possibility that Josh may have let in someone he knew and that that person then shot him and set it up to look like he had committed suicide,’ Dewar said.

  Gloria jumped to her feet. ‘Are you insinuating that that someone was my daughter?’

  ‘Not at all, you already confirmed that your daughter was with you at the Savoy all night.’

  A flustered Gloria pursed her lips and smoothed her tight pencil skirt. Anna thought Dewar was treading a fine line but was impressed with both her tact and direction.

  ‘Try and think, darling, answer the question,’ Gloria said. ‘The sooner this is all over with the better.’

  Donna nodded and then hesitantly answered. ‘If the wardrobe was open I never noticed. I did have a bad hangover that morning.’

  ‘Did you know what Josh kept in the safe?’

  ‘No. He never told me so I assumed it was personal stuff. Obviously, I now know it was the gun.’

  ‘So we don’t know if anything else was missing from it or if the gun was actually his for that matter,’ Dewar said quickly.

  ‘I never used the safe. I didn’t even know the code.’ Donna looked pleadingly towards Gloria.

  Dewar changed her tack to one of concern, ‘Was your husband upset at the recent loss of his mother?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, he was.’

  ‘Anything else that troubled him?’

  Donna hesitated. ‘He always worried about the club being a success and repaying the cost of doing it up.’

  ‘Clearly though, he must have been severely depressed if we are to believe he took his own life.’

  ‘Yes, I think so, yes.’

  ‘But he never discussed his depression with you? There were no signs, nothing untoward?’

  ‘Well, he’d been quieter than usual.’

  ‘What is your point, Officer Dewar?’ Gloria barked as she opened a cigarette box and lit one.

  ‘Please, Mummy, don’t smoke,’ Donna said.

  ‘You know it relaxes me, darling,’ Gloria said as she sucked in a lungful of smoke and then exhaled, shaking her head.

  ‘It’s Special Agent Dewar and I was just wondering if there were any problems between Donna and her husband. Any reason he shouldn’t confide in her if he was feeling depressed.’

  Again Donna looked to her mother. ‘We had been going through a bit of rough patch and—’

  Gloria stamped her foot. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I find your questioning and treatment of my daughter intolerable. How dare you lie your way into my house and make such outlandish accusations? So they were a young couple and things weren’t always perfect, but they could not be described as having problems.’

  Anna decided to try to calm the situation.

  ‘We are not accusing your daughter of anything. Agent Dewar is merely trying to ascertain Josh’s state of mind at the time.’

  ‘What do you mean by a rough patch, Donna?’ Dewar asked, determined to put pressure on the young woman.

  ‘It was due to work and—’

  ‘Enough, Donna! She thinks Josh was murdered and is trying to make you look complicit in his death. I want you both out of my house now. I have never witnessed such underhand behaviour by a police officer.’ Gloria aggressively stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray.

  Dewar would not let go. ‘Did you return home already knowing your husband was dead?’

  ‘Why are you saying these horrible things?’ Donna burst into tears and reached out to her mother for comfort.

  ‘GET OUT! Get out of my house now before I call the Chief Constable!’

  Dewar was about to ask another question but Anna grabbed her arm and whispered to her to shut up and that it was time for them to leave.

  ‘We’ll need to speak to you again, Donna, but it may be at the police station next time!’ Dewar snapped.

  ‘You will be hearing from my solicitor!’ Gloria shouted as she ushered them to the door and slammed it shut behind them.

  As Anna removed her Dictaphone from her jacket pocket and switched it off, she caught sight of Katrina talking to her husband, who was washing a Mini Cooper Convertible with the registration DON4L. Anna assumed it was Donna’s car, but could barely think straight as she was absolutely livid with Dewar. The interview had been going well until the agent had attacked Donna so unnecessarily.

  They drove out of Lynne House and Dewar pulled up by Anna’s car. Anna got out and leaned in the passenger window to let Dewar know she had an appointment in the morning and would be in the office a little later than usual.

  ‘Mother’s a bit up her own backside, isn’t she? I know she’s only trying to protect her daughter but it’s unbelievable she can’t see the spoilt little brat is lying. Hate those fake square-cut nails, wafting them around as she told lie after lie.’

  ‘How do you know she’s lying? Micro-expressions all over the place, were they?’

  ‘You noticed them as well then?’

  Anna shook her head. She couldn’t believe how thick-skinned the woman was.

  ‘LOOK OUT!’ Dewar suddenly screamed. Anna stood bolt upright as Dewar reached across and grabbed the waistband of Anna’s skirt, pulling her tight up against the car.

  Anna looked over her shoulder to see a bright yellow Lotus sports car hurtle past, the wing mirror narrowly missing her. She focused on the number plate and started to repeat it over in her mind as the car’s back wheels screeched and skidded through the gates to Lynne House and up the driveway at speed. Anna grabbed her pen from her jacket pocket and wrote the number on the back of her hand: A1SAL.

  ‘Could you see who was driving?’ Anna asked.

  ‘No, you were in the way,’ Dewar said, making light of the near-serious incident.

  Anna thought about the number plate for a second and then the penny dropped. Almost in unison she and Dewar said, ‘Aisa Lynne!’

  ‘Should we go in and have a word with her?’ Dewar asked.

  ‘No. We can find out where she works.’

  ‘Why not pursue it now?’

  ‘Because—’ Anna began, clearly exasperated.

  ‘I’m just kidding. I’m not that tactless,’ Dewar said with a laugh and drove off, leaving Anna to get into her car, thinking that tactless just about said it all.

  Chapter Ten

  Anna got home just after eight-thirty, feeling physically and mentally exhausted after such a long working day. Too tired to even cook herself something to eat she ordered a Chinese home-delivery of Peking duck, Kung Pao beef and special fried rice. She had just stretched out on the sofa in front of the television when the doorbell rang. Anna went to her handbag and got some cash then opened the door, only to find Langton standing there with her Chinese takeaway in his hand, paying the delivery man.

  ‘You owe me fifteen quid,’ he said, handing her the food, and stomped past her into the living room. She had a feeling tha
t his unannounced visit was to do with the fractious events at Gloria Lynne’s house.

  ‘It didn’t take you long to start pissing the public off, did it?’ he said, removing his jacket and throwing it down on the sofa.

  ‘Sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t bullshit me! You know it’s Gloria fucking Lynne I’m talking about.’

  Anna was far too tired for a stand-up argument.

  ‘What about her?’ she asked as she took the bag of food into the kitchen and Langton followed her.

  ‘She’s got friends in high places. No sooner had you left her place than she was on the phone to the local Chief Constable. And, guess what? He’s ex-Met and the Commissioner’s bloody golf partner.’

  ‘What’s his handicap?’

  ‘Don’t take the piss, Travis!’

  ‘Actually, I was about to take some red wine. Would you like a glass, or the Scotch is in the cupboard on the left.’

  ‘I give you a simple suicide case that needs a few casual enquiries and you turn it into a witch hunt against Donna Reynolds,’ Langton said as he removed the whisky bottle from the cupboard and poured himself a large glass, which he promptly downed in one before pouring another.

  ‘What did the Commissioner say?’

  ‘He called Walters, who took great delight in biting my head off because of your behaviour.’

  For Anna, the mention of Walters’ name put a whole different perspective on Langton’s visit.

  ‘What did he say?’ she asked as she removed two clean plates from the dishwasher to avoid eye contact with him.

  ‘He wasn’t happy. He was tempted to scupper your trip to the FBI Academy until I persuaded him otherwise. What on earth made you accuse Donna Reynolds of murder?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Well that’s not what Gloria Lynne said.’

  ‘I mean, I didn’t personally.’

  ‘Come on, Anna. I thought you were better than that. Don’t put the blame on Jessie. She’s only shadowing you.’

  ‘I’m not blaming her but she’s fixated on the idea that Donna Reynolds had Josh murdered. She makes everything fit her theory and has an extremely aggressive manner.’

  ‘I think she’s a bit more experienced than that.’

  ‘You’ve never worked with her. She’s more interested in her own opinion and proving herself right.’

  ‘Sounds like someone I know.’

  ‘You know full well I consider all aspects of the evidence before I voice my opinion. As you said to her, you need the team on your side, not against you.’

  ‘She told you I said that?’

  Anna realized she had inadvertently revealed that she had eavesdropped on Langton’s conversation with Dewar.

  ‘Do you want some of this Chinese?’ she asked, trying to change the subject.

  ‘You listened in on our conversation, didn’t—’

  ‘Okay. Yes, I did, but it wasn’t deliberate.’

  ‘Just as well I was singing your praises then.’

  ‘Thanks for putting her straight about Ken.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell her?’ Langton asked.

  ‘I don’t really know her, let alone like her, and my personal life is none of her business.’

  ‘Understandable, but I’ve always found her very pleasant.’

  ‘When she wants something to be to her advantage, she is. Look at all you’ve done for her,’ Anna hit back.

  ‘Do I detect a hint of jealousy?’

  ‘No. You detect someone who’s not prepared to be blamed for Dewar’s mess.’

  ‘She’s got a good track record,’ Langton pointed out.

  ‘In a classroom maybe, but I don’t think she’s very experienced at investigative street work. Not a clue about how to talk to people.’

  ‘She could just be nervous working in a strange environment.’

  ‘You need to sit down and listen to the interviews I taped with Delon Taylor and at Gloria Lynne’s house and rethink your opinion of her.’

  ‘You only have to put up with her for a few more days before we leave for Quantico. So do me a favour and give her a break.’

  ‘Patience as you know is one of my virtues,’ Anna said with a wry smile.

  ‘Good. While we eat this, you can tell me about the investigation so far. Warts and all.’

  ‘I thought we’d just covered Dewar,’ Anna said as she put the plates of food and a bottle of soy sauce down on the kitchen table.

  ‘Don’t push it,’ Langton said, and smiled.

  Anna gave Langton a run-down on the investigation so far, going over the interviews with Delon Taylor, Marcus Williams, Donna and Gloria Lynne. Anna told him that although Gloria struck her as someone who was full of her own importance she was a very protective mother when it came to her daughters and Dewar’s line of questioning didn’t help.

  ‘Everything seems quite straightforward to me. If you’ve shown Taylor to be a liar then it should be case closed,’ Langton remarked, having listened to everything Anna had told him.

  ‘I’d like nothing more than to agree with you but Dewar has raised some valid questions that are as yet unanswered.’

  ‘Hang on a minute, you said earlier that she was coming up with wild theories.’

  ‘I said, I think she makes things fit the way she perceives them to be. You’ve always said to expect the unexpected, but never try and explain it until you find the evidence that proves or disproves a theory.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’

  ‘I know Dewar’s interpersonal skills leave a lot to be desired. She likes to be confrontational, but I have to say she was very impressive during her crime scene re-enactment at the Reynolds flat.’

  ‘She should be. As a Behavioural Adviser crime scene analysis is her bread and butter.’

  ‘She went through the scene very methodically, even acted out being shot three times and let herself slump to the ground as if she was Josh Reynolds in his death throes.’

  ‘A tad dramatic, but her conclusion was?’

  ‘Dewar said if Reynolds shot himself there should have been blood spatter across the back of his right hand. There wasn’t any and the position his body ended up in didn’t seem natural.’

  ‘It’s not natural to shoot yourself in the head,’ Langton observed.

  ‘If Dewar’s right then the scene had to be staged to look like a suicide. I’ve arranged to see Pete Jenkins at the lab tomorrow morning to discuss her theory.’

  ‘Didn’t he attend the scene at the time of Reynolds’ death?’

  ‘It doesn’t appear that Pete was ever asked to and I suspect that once the post-mortem was over it was in effect case closed.’ Anna raised her eyebrows.

  ‘The original file would have been checked and signed off as suicide by one of the Homicide Directorate Superintendents,’ Langton said.

  ‘They can only go by Paul Simms’ report.’

  ‘Have you spoken with Simms?’

  ‘Meeting him for an early breakfast before going to the lab.’

  As Langton got up and helped himself to what was left of the Chinese food, Anna looked at the kitchen clock. It was nearly eleven. She was really tired and had an early start in the morning. As a hint to Langton she gave a loud yawn and stretched her shoulders and neck.

  ‘I’d like to listen to the Donna Reynolds interview tape. If you’re tired, get off to bed and I’ll see myself out when I’m done,’ Langton said, offering her little choice in the matter.

  Anna got the Dictaphone from her handbag, handed it to him and went off to her bedroom. She set her alarm and lay in bed mulling things over in her mind as she drifted off into a deep sleep.

  Anna was unexpectedly awoken by a hand on her shoulder. In panic, she wondered where she was and sat bolt upright.

  ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,’ Langton said.

  Although annoyed that he had done so, Anna was relieved that it was him.

  ‘You been here all night?�
�� she asked, thinking it was the early hours of the morning.

  ‘It’s only midnight. Bit of a humdinger, that interview at Gloria’s house. Dewar did push it to the limit and—’

  ‘Good night, Jimmy,’ Anna said, deliberately using Dewar’s name for him.

  ‘I hate being called that.’

  ‘Please. I just want to go back to sleep!’ Anna pleaded as she pulled the duvet over her head.

  ‘Well I just wanted to apologize for my earlier outburst. You were very polite with Gloria Lynne and tried to diffuse the situation. I shouldn’t have doubted you.’

  ‘Apology accepted,’ she mumbled from under the duvet.

  ‘I’ll be off then.’

  Hearing the bedroom door close, Anna pulled the duvet back down as her mind went back to the time when they had lived together. Even then, he had an annoying habit of waking her in the middle of the night to discuss or seek her opinion on some aspect of a case that was irritating him. She was glad that the breakup of their relationship had never marred their respect for each other.

  Since it was so early in the morning, Anna easily found a parking bay near the restaurant where she’d arranged to meet Paul Simms. Although she knew of the Wolseley and its famed breakfasts, she had never been to it before. It had been built as a showroom in the 1920s by the famous Wolseley car company, subsequently became a bank, and then in 2003 was turned into a café-restaurant that retained many of its original features and its Venetian-style design.

  The restaurant was already bustling with customers as Paul Simms waved to her from his table at the far side of the room. He was smartly dressed in a light grey woollen pinstripe suit, lilac shirt and matching silk tie. When the handsome maître d’ bade Anna good morning, she told him that she was meeting a friend who was already seated.

  Paul, as ever the gentleman, stood up to shake her hand and then gently pulled her chair back for her to sit down. The waiter flicked open Anna’s napkin, handed her the menu and poured her a glass of water.

  ‘Posh, isn’t it?’ Paul said.

  ‘It’s amazing.’

  ‘Glad you like it. It’s a bit expensive though.’

  ‘My treat, so don’t worry about it.’

  Anna perused the menu and thought to herself that for a central London location with such stunning decor the food prices were not that extortionate, though the caviar omelette was out of her price range.